


Phases

by simpleandpure22



Series: Everything in Between [3]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpleandpure22/pseuds/simpleandpure22
Summary: Jonas doesn’t have time for a stupid crush on a teammate. Absolutely not. But maybe... it’s just a phase.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The next fic is here, and this time it's a bit longer. :)

A gentle beam of morning sunlight streams through the curtains, that one of them didn’t close properly yesterday. In his bed, Andre is lying on his stomach, with one arm under the pillow and the other one folded next to his face. His skin looks smooth, and warm. Pleasant. The covers drape around his hips, stopping just under the curve of his lower back. Some strands of hair fall on his face, strangely not looking out of place. Lying in his own bed, Jonas can see the tattoo on his ribcage... black on pale.

What did exactly happen here last night? It was… weird. Well, the being-in-the-darkness thing was okay enough; it was a nice solitude and he needed it. But he didn’t expect Andre to come and sit with him, pretty much accepting the darkness without questions.

Although if he thinks of it, that’s the kind of thing Andre would do. He is very nice like that. _To everyone, not just you_. Jonas rolls his eyes at no one in particular _, of course not just me._ He bets he was nice to his previous roommate, too.  And that brings him back to last night’s event. For a moment the line between them seemed to blur, and he didn’t know where they stood—in which side of the line. But, nothing happened and it’s good, because Jonas doesn’t need this kind of complication right now.

He closes his eyes, only to open them again a few seconds later. A glance at the clock tells him that they have some more minutes before the alarm will ring and bring them back to normality. He sighs; God knows he _needs_ normality.

The thing is everyone can see that Andre is attractive. Jonas isn’t blind, of course he notices. And he’s nice, too. In the training camp in Rottach-Egern a while ago, he helped Jonas to get even after Juli and Patrick messed his bed.

"I'm gonna murder them," Jonas exclaimed after he saw the mess. A part of him wanted to snigger, because even he had to admit this was a good one.  And the other part itched to strangle them as soon as he got the chance.

Andre looked amused when he watched him. "Unfortunately we still need them for the next match. I have a better idea." As Jonas shot him a suspicious glare, he smiled. “Mess their room.”

That was a good idea, but Jonas shook his head. “I can’t enter their room, they won’t let me.”

“But I can.”

Jonas remembers it took a few seconds before words sank in. And when they did, he once again shook his head, though for a different reason this time. “You’ll do that for me?” He didn’t think Andre would be up to something that childish.

Andre didn’t even hesitate when he replied, “Of course.”

In the end he did manage to somehow get Juli’s keycard and let Jonas enter the room—and turn it into a battlefield. When the guys found out, Patrick laughed (he’s got a good sense of humour, this one) whilst Juli looked half-betrayed, asking Andre how he could do that to them. Andre told him they started it, and that he of course would stand by his roommate.

Jonas has told himself again and again that it was nothing but a favour. He would do the same thing for his previous roommates, for sure. But it didn’t stop Jonas from feeling something tender and warm, and maybe a little bit fuzzy at times. Like right now, when he’s looking at how Andre’s back gently rises and falls as he breathes.

 _This isn’t happening._ Jonas has to keep his focus on improving his game; he doesn’t have time for a stupid crush on a teammate. Absolutely not. But maybe... it’s just a phase, something he’ll get over with sooner or later. Let’s say there are three phases: phase one is having a crush, phase two is getting over it, and everything is back to normal at phase three. Obviously, he’s still in phase one, but he should be going towards the second. Besides after last night, it’s clear Andre doesn’t see him that way.

“Fuck,” he curses when Andre’s phone alarm goes off, followed by his own a second later.

Andre reaches for his phone and turns off the alarm, brushing some hair from his face. “Morning,” he says with a sleepy smile, looking—good. “How long have you been awake?”

“A while,” Jonas replies. “Couldn’t get back to sleep.”

Yawning, Andre places his phone back on the nightstand and sits up. “I dreamt about playing pool with you, Tobi and Lars. It must be because of our game yesterday, although Lars was slightly a better player in my dream.”

They both laugh. Lars and how bad he is at playing pool is the team’s inside joke. “I didn’t think I’d meet someone who’s as bad, but man Tobi Strobl is even worse,” he adds, sending Andre into fits of laughter.

This is good; it feels normal. _Well, almost_. Jonas is still too aware of the funny feeling in his chest when Andre grins at him before walking to the bathroom, but he’s working on it. It’s okay to like your roommate, right? But not more than that.

~*~

The next few days pass in a flash, Jonas is so occupied with trainings and more trainings that he doesn’t have time to think about which phase he’s in. This situation is still not ideal. He would like to play more, who wouldn’t? But realistically, he knows why he doesn’t.

_I wasn’t always like this, you know._

Yeah, once upon a time he was naïve and hopeful, thinking he could take the world by storm. Three years later, things are messier, harder. Scars will heal, but what about the ones that are invisible to the eye?

When he enters the changing room after a training session, his eyes are drawn to Andre who’s sitting on the bench, grinning at his phone. Next to him, Tony is also looking at the phone.

“What are you two looking at?” Jonas asks, as he opens his locker and pulls a towel out.

Andre looks up and smiles. “It’s Branne’s dog; she’s really cute,” he says, whilst Tony nods. He flips his phone and Jonas sees a picture of a beagle (isn’t it?), with big brown eyes. A few seconds later they both look down at the picture again, and Tony mentions something about how the dog used to chew on shoes when she was smaller, making Andre chuckle.

Right... Branimir, his roommate before Jonas. How close were they exactly? During his first months in the team, Jonas didn’t pay much attention to them, considering there were ten thousand other things he was more concerned about. But now he can’t help wondering.

It keeps bugging him for the rest of the day, and the next one, that he decides to ask someone about it. He leans towards Juli, although it comes with a risk, knowing his nosey tendency. But the choice is either Juli or Patrick, and Patrick is not here today. So, Juli it is.

“How close were Andre and Branne?” he asks Juli when they’re both the only ones left on the pitch, collecting the remaining balls, and it seems to take Juli by surprise. Well, being diplomatic isn’t Jonas’ strongest suit.

Juli picks one ball from the grass before looking at him. “Pretty close, maybe like you and Andre now. Why did you ask?”

“No reason.” That probably comes a little too quickly. Juli raises his eyebrows, obviously not buying it. “What?” Jonas adds, louder than he meant to.

“I know where this is going. You—” Juli starts, but Jonas cuts him off.

“I don’t.” Whatever it is he’s about to say. “Let’s get going.”

Juli ignores it. He stares at Jonas, a serious look on his face. This can’t be good. “You like Andre.”

Although Jonas has kinda expected it, his heart still skips a beat. He tries to compose a snappy reply but can’t find one. And that’s all it takes to confirm Juli’s statement. Jonas exhales, picking a ball and shoving it into the bag with such force, as though it’s the cause of all his misfortunes.

“It’s okay. It happened to other roommates, too,” Juli says in a reassuring tone.

Jonas turns to him. “What?”

Still looking patient, Juli explains, “I mean for roommates to like each other. Like, you know, Oscar and Howie, and then Yann and Granit.” Jonas supposes surprise is apparent on his face, because Juli laughs. “You really didn’t know, did you?”

“Well, Oscar and Howie don’t surprise me. But Yann and Granit… I didn’t see that coming.”

Juli shrugs, maybe sort of agrees. “They weren’t as obvious, yeah, but they were a thing.”

Picking another ball with his foot, Jonas averts his eyes to their athletic trainer, Markus, who’s talking to Fabian. It won’t be long before he finishes talking and comes to them. “They’re not anymore?” He’s not privy to his teammates’ private lives, but being the only one not knowing about what happened around him feels rather stupid.

“I have no idea, Yann doesn’t talk about it,” Juli says. “But they seem to struggle with the distance.”

Distance. It sounds too familiar. Distance for Jonas means Erik, and how things went wrong between them. First the Mainz loan, and then him moving to Gladbach.

_You’ll just keep leaving me behind._

_I can’t do this anymore._

There is so much truth in what Erik said that Jonas couldn’t deny. It hurt him, too—of course it did. Erik had been a part of him for a long time. But it’s better this way, for both of them. Dating a teammate is never a good idea. But now he’s concerned that he’s about to fall into the same pattern.

He can’t let that happen. “About Andre… it’s nothing. It’s just a phase.”

Juli raises his eyebrows again. “A phase?”

“Yeah, phase one is having a crush, phase two is getting over it, and phase three is when everything‘s back to normal,” Jonas explains.

“Hmm, it sounds sensible,” Juli replies, much to Jonas’ delight—until he hears what he says next. “But what if it’s the other way around? As in, phase one is having a crush, on phase two the crush intensifies, and phase three is, I don’t know, being in love maybe.”

Jonas doesn’t like the sound of it, not one bit. “Nah, I’m sure it’s the first one.” He’s lucky Markus chooses now to walk to them, so that he doesn’t need to argue with Juli about the ridiculous subject.

“Thanks, guys,” Markus tells them, as they have collected all the balls. And they walk with him towards the stadium.

~*~

Jonas is the very last person that enters the changing room after today’s training. It was scorching for a September day, and he didn’t bother to do more running. No wonder when he gets there a lot of his teammates have already showered and changed.

He only sits down on the bench for two seconds when Ibrahima materialises in front of him; a wicked grin is plastered on his face. “Guys, Hoffi is trying to avoid the ice bath. What does that mean?”

Someone that sounds like Tobi replies from the other side of the room, “The pool.”

“Yeah, the pool!” another voice joins in.

 _What the fuck?_ Before Jonas even has time to utter a protest, someone lifts him up and carries him past the showers towards the pool. As the shock begins to wear off, he clutches on the person’s shoulders, isn’t sure if he should laugh or yell. “Andre what the hell? Put me down.”

Andre lets out a chuckle, which is quickly drowned by the others’ laughter behind them. He stops by the edge of the pool, looking up at Jonas. And then something about his demeanour changes, something Jonas can feel but can’t quite put a finger on. Andre’s eyes are fixed on his, a smile freezes on his face. One of his hands trails down Jonas’ back, stopping on his spine. Then as suddenly as it started, Andre puts him down and takes two steps back.

“Man, why didn’t you throw him in?” Ibrahima emerges next to Andre, shaking his head. Behind them Tobi and Marvin grunt in disappointment.

“On second thought, this is the first time for him. Consider this a warning,” Andre says. The responses that Jonas can catch include the words ‘conspiracy’, ‘spoilsport’, and ‘softie’.

Still mumbling their discontent, people stalk off the room one by one, leaving Jonas with Andre. “Thanks,” Jonas tells him.

“You didn’t try to skip the ice bath, did you?” Andre gives him a smile.

“Of course not. It must be fifty degrees out there,” he says, and they both laugh. “Would you really throw me into the pool?” Jonas can’t help asking when the laughter has stopped.

Andre’s gaze roams on his face for a long second before he says, “No.”

Jonas hasn’t expected it, or maybe he has. Nevertheless, the way it evokes the funny feeling in his chest is starting to worry him. It’s mad, uncontrollable; this phase gotta be over soon. Unless of course... it’s Juli’s version of phases. Well, in that case he’s fucked.

_Totally utterly fucked._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
